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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168014">Take these broken wings - ILLUSTRATED -</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster'>GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Violence, Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blood, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Patient (Good Omens), F/F, Graphic Violence, M/M, Naga Crowley (Good Omens), No Smut, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Surgery, Traumatic Amputation, Wing Injury, clever Crowley, description of surgical procedures, giving blood, only M for the gore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:13:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Crowley finds a demon being tortured by other demons, he steps in to save her. Calling on Aziraphale for assistance, they try to get to the bottom of what she was being punished for, and resolve to help. Perhaps Crowley and Aziraphale are only the first demon and angel to rebel against their sides? Asexual Aziraphale &amp; Crowley. CW for graphic descriptions of violence, blood, medical procedures in first two chapters. </p><p>Illustrated - I’ve only been learning to draw for a few weeks, some of the illustrations in this fic I did earlier, some later, and some I drew especially for this fic, which wasn’t originally going to be illustrated at all. You can probably tell the early drawings from the more recent ones (they’re all dated anyway), please pardon the clumsiness of a few.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Original Female Character/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. From Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Details on the inspiration for this fic in end notes, CW for description of extreme pain. Skip it if you don't want to read that bit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “My lot do not send rude notes.” </em>
</p><p>Damn right they didn’t, Crowley reflected, bitterly, remembering the Bastille and gazing at the immobile shape on the bed, whimpering, breathing harsh and pained, and blood seeping through the bandages. </p><p>
  <em> That could have been me.  </em>
</p><p><em> Kind of was, at one point </em>, he supposed. A long time ago. He winced at the memory. </p><p>But not this bad, not this final. A total, not partial loss. He tried to imagine it. </p><p>Then he tried not to, and shuddered. He sat and watched through the hours of darkness.</p>
<hr/><p>Earlier:</p><p>Crowley could feel an abrupt spike in demonic energy like a shockwave, it was powerful, like a few demons manifesting all at once in a state of high excitement. He stopped in his tracks and spun around in confusion, trying to get a fix on the direction as pedestrians around him tutted and barged past. He hissed at them in irritation, then finally sensed the direction the wave had hit him from, and cautiously set off to investigate. </p><p>As he got closer, his superior sense of smell picked up the scent of demons along with anger and fear on the air, and overwhelming them all, the scent of blood, copper-sharp on his tongue. He slowed his frantic pace and edged forward cautiously, following the scent trail up a narrow lane then toward a back alley behind a row of mostly derelict shops. He began to hear screams. Rather than running, he stopped, then inched forward, wary. </p><p>In London, as with many big cities, no one comes running to screams. They put their heads down and ignore it as thoroughly as possible. But the fact that these screams were accompanied by the taste of blood on the air and demonic auras made Crowley concerned. He peered around the corner of the alley and took in the scene of bloodshed. </p><p>
  
</p><p>It was hard to tell what was going on. The alley was a mess of flaming, bloody chaos, screams, yelps, and snarls, along with malicious laughter as a trio of demons gathered around a fourth on the floor. The demon on the floor appeared to be the source of the yelps, screams, blood, and flame. She was in pain and struggling to keep control of her corporation, which wavered between human-shaped and true form, which appeared to be a black wolf with huge gryphon wings and serpentine tail lashing about in agitation. </p><p>Not wings. Wing. Just the one, flailing about, unable to lift her from the ground. Where the other should be was just a bloody stump, splattering red across the ground and the three demons attacking her. Every now and then she snarled out a gout of flame from her mouth. </p><p>
  
</p><p>Of the three around her, two were disposable demons - clones, the third taller than most, with wickedly long sharp claws as the only thing betraying his otherwise humanoid corporation. He was laughing the loudest of the three as he slashed out at the demon on the ground, opening lacerations along her flanks and face. As she flipped back into her wolf-like form again, one of the disposable demons leapt on her neck and clamped his hands around her jaws from behind, then snapped a leather belt up and bound it around her jaws, muzzling her mouth shut so she couldn’t flame at them any more, or bite. </p><p>The restraint of her muzzle appeared to lock her into the wolf form and she stopped changing back and forth. The other disposable demon launched at her hindquarters, pinning her down, then the tall one strode forward and grabbed her remaining wing. He hauled back, bracing his foot against her heaving ribcage and wrenching with supernatural strength. Crowley could hear tendons and ligaments tear and snap and the scream despite the muzzle from the stricken demon. </p><p>The tall one began slashing with his other clawed hand at her wing joint, severing fascia until he got to the joint capsule by her shoulder, then with a particularly violent yank and twist, he tore her wing off completely. Her screams were ear shattering, over and over and over in tortured pain, inescapable. Her eyes were wild and unseeing through the agony, her entire body nothing but ripping pain.</p><p>Crowley's own back burned in empathy, remembering that very same pain. This demon only had two wings to start with. On arrival in Hell, Crowley had had more. They’d left him with two. This demon was going to be left with none, if she survived at all. </p><p>He didn’t understand what it was about, but whatever it was, it was torture, pure and simple. Crowley gave up holding back and charged in. It was too late to save her wings, but he could stop them killing her, he hoped. </p><p>Crowley stretched upwards and allowed his own wings to burst forth, his teeth, claws and horns manifested. As he bore down on them, he dispensed with his usual form and clothing altogether in favour of something more powerful than that scrawny humanoid frame. Instead of legs, his lower body became an enormous serpent’s body and tail, slithering whip-fast across the filthy alley floor. The attacking demons didn’t see him coming, and it gave him the edge he needed. </p><p>
  <a href="http://ukshires.net/AO3/brokenwings/28-08-20-nagaFINAL.jpg">  </a>
</p><p>Crowley leapt first on the disposable demon on the wolf’s hindquarters, grabbing it with clawed hands while his tail lashed out at the largest one, knocking him off balance while he clawed the disposable’s throat open and flung it aside. Next he wrapped his coils around the disposable on the wolf’s neck and squeezed hard, crushing it in his powerful grip, splintering and cracking it’s bones into pieces, keeping his eye on the largest demon who was getting to his feet with an ugly snarl. </p><p>Crowley dropped the gasping broken disposable and darted around the tall demon, grabbed him from behind and struck out lightning fast, sinking his fangs into the demon’s shoulder and depositing a full load of demonic venom into him. The demon thrashed around, clawing behind him at Crowley, slashing at him and drawing blood even as Crowley wrapped his serpentine coils around his body and began to squeeze the breath out of this one as well. </p><p>The first disposable with the slashed throat gasped then discorporated. The crushed one was taking rather longer but was definitely no longer a threat. The tall one however was stronger than he looked, and the venom wasn’t working as fast as Crowley would have liked. Trying to avoid being clawed any more, he abruptly let go and slithered away, trying to get clear of those grabbing talons. </p><p>The tall demon was growling at him, looking distinctly less humanoid now he could no longer control his corporation properly, and his skin was appearing reddish and streaked with silver stripes. He growled harshly, lungs clearly injured from Crowley’s cruel embrace, but otherwise still far too capable for Crowley’s liking. They circled each other warily, Crowley’s scales scraping and slithering over the ground. The tall demon made a feint toward Crowley, who darted to the side, then used his momentum to lash out with his tail, swiping fast sideways, knocking the other demon off his feet with a sickening crunch. </p><p>Crowley darted away again and grabbed the wolf demon’s serpent-like tail, to drag her out of the claw-range of the downed tall demon before letting her go and circling back toward him with a low hiss. It looked like the venom was beginning to work now - the other demon’s neck was turning a blackish-purple spreading up from the bitten shoulder. His arm on that side was slack, dangling limply by his side and his jaw was tense with pain. Crowley could see his coordination was faltering, and tried to keep out of reach until the venom could finish it’s work. </p><p>The guy was stronger than he looked, most people (or creatures) would be gasping on the floor by now, but it took a little longer for him to fall again, still glaring in vicious hatred at Crowley even as his limbs stopped moving and his breathing got tighter and shorter. The curse in his eye remained even after the last shuddering breath. Crowley, satisfied that the threat had been neutralised, lit up the three corpses in hellfire to dispose of them, and turned to the injured wolf demon. </p><p>He first retook his human shape and clothes, then removed his jacket, placing it over the ripped wounds on her back and tying it by the sleeves around her heaving chest to apply pressure and slow the bleeding, then removed the belt that bound her jaws closed. As soon as he did, although she was limp in his arms, she suddenly snapped at him, fangs just grazing his arm and ripping his shirt as he yanked it back with snake-fast reflexes. </p><p>One baleful eye, wolf-amber, glared at him distrustfully as she lay there, bleeding in a dozen places, a low threatening growl rumbling in her ribcage. Crowley wiped at the blood on his arm and set his jaw. </p><p>“Look, I know you’re hurting, but I’m trying to help here. I just got rid of those three who were attacking you, bound up your back and freed your jaws. Oh who am I kidding? Why should I expect gratitude from another fucking demon of all things? I’m a fucking idiot.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Why were they attacking you?”</p><p>The wolf glared at him, weighing him up carefully before she responded. </p><p>“Punishment,” she gasped, warily. </p><p>“Well for saving you from those three will you at least agree not to try to bite me again?”</p><p>“I already killed the other ten,” she muttered. “I’d have got them too.”</p><p>Crowley gave her a skeptical look. “Looks like you were on your last legs by that point. They got your wings. You’re bleeding badly, and at this rate you’ll bleed out. I could leave you here to do that, then see how much fun you have when your discorporated self turns up back in hell so they can do this all over again to you, although those wings are gone permanently, those will never come back.”</p><p>“How do <em> you </em>know?”</p><p>“I know.” Crowlely said with a grim finality. </p><p>“You’ve got wings, saw ‘em.” The wolf demon grunted painfully, shifting her weight uneasily where she lay, then crying out in pain. </p><p>Crowley glared at her. “Look, I can stop you ending up back there again. D’you want my help or not? Take it or leave it, clock’s ticking, and you’re bleeding out.”</p><p>The wolf whimpered and flinched, then glared at him again for a moment before closing her eyes and baring her throat to him, closing her mouth firmly in silent acceptance. Crowley grunted and stepped forward. He hefted her limp body in his arms, then snapped them back to his apartment. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <strong>CW: description of extreme pain.</strong>
</p><p>I have chronic pain anyway, my nervous system is faulty and causes neurological issues and extreme muscle spasms. I keep a daily pain score diary &amp; have for years to track symptoms &amp; flares etc. On two occasions I have experienced pain so bad it was a true 10/10, or honestly 11/10, both times were after surgery, but unrelated to the surgery site - my body just went into full on rebellion in response to the “attack” it percieved, causing horrific muscle spasms, and left me unable to move, speak, think, breathe properly or even tell the passing of time properly, my entire existence was nothing but pain, it was hell. So in 13 years only twice have I hit pain that bad. </p><p>Well on the 26th of June this year, I experienced the worst pain event ever that wasn’t prompted by anything. I was asleep, rolled over and immediately started screaming. It felt as if someone had just snapped off about the top 6 pairs of ribs next to the spinal column all at once. It was agonising pain, just screaming and screaming and screaming, I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t move or breathe properly, couldn’t talk, it was 10/10. </p><p> </p><p>  <strong>The only thing I could think was <span class="big"> “I guess this is what it would feel like to have your wings ripped off”</span></strong></p><p> </p><p>Eventually the screams eased into sobs and as I was alone that day (a stroke of bad luck, my carer several miles away), I managed, with more screams, and assistance from my bed frame (mobility device to help disabled people in and out of bed), to roll over and reach my meds next to the bed, took all of them with the water bottle that’s always there, and took the maximum allowed amount of morphine that I’d been cleared to take in the past by a doctor when I had a severe pain event. It’s basically more than double the usual dose, but I knew it was safe to take, but also that it would likely knock me out. </p><p>Which meant I had to try to call my other half and tell them what happened and what I’d had to do, so when they came home and found me unconscious they’d know why. Problem is that I couldn’t talk properly. I did my best, opened with “I’m ok, don’t panic” and managed to get enough jumbled words out to explain the quantity of meds I’d had to take, what time and when they could give me more.</p><p>The very strong combination of meds managed to knock me out after a while, and the next 12 hours or so were a haze of unconsciousness, pain, briefly rousing when the pain became too much, more pain meds, and unconsciousness again. I was incoherent for most of it. </p><p>It turns out that it was a muscle spasm so powerful that it managed to tear the muscles in my trapezius on both sides at once - not unheard of, but not entirely common either. It took weeks to heal and was extremely painful, even breathing hurt. Pain scores didn’t go below a 6 or 7 for about a week.  Any movement pushed it to a 9 (and that was medicated), and I often screamed out from even minor movements. I needed a lot more help washing and dressing than usual.</p><p>Pain scores averaged 3 at best to 8 for the next two weeks afterwards, before gradually returning to a normal 3-6 average over time.</p><p>The thought that kept going through my head was that it must be what it would feel like to have your wings ripped off if you were an angel or demon, sheer torture. So I decided to write it. But I couldn’t bring myself to put either Crowley or Aziraphale through that kind of pain, I just couldn’t, so decided instead to create an OC, and have Crowley rescue her and help her heal instead.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>CW blood (hence chapter title) Crowley brings the injured demon home - he can hardly waltz into A&amp;E or even a vets with a mutilated wolf demon missing two wings she shouldn't even have, so he sets about using knowledge he's gleaned over centuries of battlefields and performs impromptu lifesaving surgery. When you're a clever demon who has been around for a  few thousand years, you pick up a thing or two, but it's not easy. Afraid of losing his patient, he calls Aziraphale for help.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley laid the bleeding wolf demon in his bed and snapped up some medical supplies. He was going to have to clean up the wounds and stem the bleeding. She needed pain relief, she needed blood. Most of Crowley’s medical knowledge stemmed from the harsh realities of war in centuries gone by. Modern medicine had advanced far beyond his limited knowledge, but start with the basics - she could breathe, and blood was supposed to stay on the inside. Keep stuff clean, keep infection out. Stabilise. </p><p>He wasn’t entirely sure where to start, but he did his best. He snapped up some morphine and found a vein under the fur on her foreleg. He wasn’t a bloody vet but she seemed to be stuck in this form right now, and had passed out. He sighed and set the needle aside before snapping up some clippers to clip a patch of fur off her leg so he could get the needle in easier. He injected some morphine, guessing at her weight. </p><p>Next he cautiously uncovered one of the gaping wounds on her back, re-tying the jacket tighter in a new position around the other one to keep the pressure on while he worked on this side. He snapped up some hemostats and clipped off the worst culprit, an artery jetting blood in weak pulses, then poked around for the other major wing veins. This done, he moved onto the other wing site and repeated his actions, getting liberally sprayed in blood in the process. </p><p>Once he’d clamped off all the major vessels, he miracled up an electrocautery device to seal off the torn ends of the torn veins and arteries, then irrigated the area with saline to clean it up, his bed now becoming soaked with mess and gore. He’d have to miracle up a new one once he was finished. </p><p>Now he could see what he was dealing with better, he noticed another deep laceration on her flank that had a blood vessel also needing clamping and cauterising. He then set about cauterising off all the minor bleeds he could find. </p><p>Hemostasis achieved, he miracled up a larger gauge needle and strap to raise a vein in his own arm. Demonic blood, like O negative, was universal; they all bled the same, so he knew he couldn’t do any harm to her with his own. He got a cannula in and set it up, clipped it off then set up a line in the wolf demon’s foreleg, before setting up the blood transfusion from himself to her to try to redress the balance. In her other foreleg he set up a second line. He miracled up a bag of saline and hooked it up, then continued to work, setting a timer on his phone to ensure he didn’t leave his blood flow on too long and give up too much. </p><p>Crowley clipped the fur from around all the injuries he could find, cursing as he worked around the line attached to his arm. He then scrubbed around them with hibiscrub solution and piles of swabs, before irrigating the wounds with plenty of saline. This done, he clamped off the line from his own arm and removed the line from his cannula, but left the cannula in, capped off in case he needed to draw more later. </p><p>The wolf demon was beginning to twitch and whimper so he administered more morphine. She was naturally unconscious and he wasn’t confident enough in his own ability to anaesthetise her with gas, so she was going to have to make do with pain relief for now. He needed to work fast before she came round. </p><p>He began with the huge open wounds on her back where her wings had been ripped off, suturing layer by layer of muscle and fascia, laying drains down in the tissue to help prevent fluid build up as he went, before bringing the skin together as best he could. His stitches were messy but functional. It took him a while and she was starting to groan and move again before he had finished the first one, so he took a chance and miracled her into unconsciousness again instead, feeling it would be safer. </p><p>Crowley started on the other side, but couldn’t close the skin the whole way on that side. He decided to leave the lower part open and only stitch what would pull across without tugging. He’d worry about closing the rest later. Finally he moved onto the rest of the lacerations on her body, some were minor and could be repaired using surgical superglue, others required deeper stitches as well. He found a dislocation in her tail and manipulated it back into line, then some crepitus of a fractured bone in her hindleg. He set it as best he could without x-ray by feel, splinted it and bound it up, then set about applying dressings to the rest of the injuries. </p><p>Now he’d set her physically to rights as best as he could, he gave her a long acting antibiotic then miracled the bed into a new fresh one. He stretched, then checked her pulse and blood pressure - still too low. </p><p>
  <em> “Shit.” </em>
</p><p>He thought for a moment. He couldn’t take too much of his own blood or he’d take himself out of action. He considered his options. She was unconscious and would remain so now, until he allowed his miracle to let her rouse naturally, although that was unlikely with this level of blood loss. He came to a decision. </p><p>Crowley left her in the bedroom, closed the door and walked through to the study. He called Aziraphale. </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Angel? I need your help. No time for a hundred questions, miracle yourself over here now, I’ll answer everything afterwards, just trust me ok?” </p><p>He hadn’t even hung up when Aziraphale was standing there next to him, worry on his face which flickered straight into fear when he saw the blood streaking the demon’s body. </p><p>“Crowley, what on earth happened? Are you alright? Is…” Crowley cut him off abruptly. </p><p>“I said no questions for now, Aziraphale, I’m fine, the help is for someone else. Take your jacket off and sit down. I need help with a blood transfusion. Will you help?”</p><p>“But you can’t give angelic blood to a human, Crowley!”</p><p>“She’s not human, I’ll explain later, just trust me when I say I know that angelic blood will not harm her. The other way around would, but this would be fine. Will you trust me, and will you help? She can’t have human blood.”</p><p>Aziraphale was wary, but he’d never known Crowley to ask for his help so directly before, and time was clearly of the essence. He nodded and began to roll up his sleeve, taking a seat on the throne. Crowley snapped up the equipment, miracled himself clean and sterile, and began to look for a vein. </p><p>“I shall expect a very thorough explanation when this is over, Crowley.”</p><p>“Of course, Aziraphale, and you shall have one, but right now someone might die if I don’t get this done.”</p><p>“Is she here?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“So why the bag? I could give it directly.”</p><p>“I don’t want you in there with her. I’ll explain later. I won’t put you in danger. I’m not thrilled with you being in the same building as her if I’m perfectly honest,” Crowley said through gritted teeth as he started the flow and adjusted the stap he’d placed around the angel’s bicep. He miracled up a squishy ball and handed it to Aziraphale to squeeze to keep the blood flowing. “But needs must, and you’re the only supernatural being I knew I could call on for help.”</p><p>Aziraphale sat on Crowley’s ornate throne, his arm resting on the red marble table top, his mind whirling with questions he’d promised he wouldn’t ask. He decided to stick with something lighthearted while Crowley worked. </p><p>
  
</p><p>“Do I at least get a cup of tea and a biscuit afterwards?” </p><p>“Angel, I’ll buy you an entire tea plantation and a biscuit factory, but right now I need to go and check on her again. I’ll be back in a sec, ok? Don’t move. Well, actually, keep squeezing that ball, but other than that, stay right there.”</p><p>The demon disappeared into his bedroom, a minute or two later he returned. He checked on the first bag with impatience, then snapped up a second and hooked it up. “That’ll have to do for now to get started with, you start filling the next one, I’m going to hook this one up.” He disappeared again, presumably to set up the transfusion to the patient, then returned and flicked the kettle on before sitting on the table next to Aziraphale. </p><p>“Is it ok if I take three pints? You’re pretty strong, you might be a bit lightheaded but you should recover quickly. If that’s not ok just say so and I’ll stick with two, but she’s lost a hell of a lot of blood, arteries were gone. I can’t take too much more of mine or I’ll get woozy and won’t be able to help her properly.”</p><p>“Yes that’s fine Crowley, don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“Thanks, Angel.” Crowley leapt off the table and paced over to the kitchen again to make the tea. He came back with a large steaming mug and a tin of assorted biscuits for Aziraphale, checking on the bag, then swapping it out for another. </p><p>“Not too much more. This’ll store in the fridge ok till I need it. I’ll be back in a minute.”</p><p>Crowley was gone again, he heard him doing something in the bedroom for a little while before finally returning. He inspected the bag, then moved the roller clamp to stop the flow, removed the cannula and pressed a wad of cotton wool over the vein. </p><p>“Press on that, will you? Keep the pressure on for a bit, then you can pop this plaster on.”</p><p>Crowley took the last bag away and snapped to banish the equipment, and went to check on his patient again before finally returning. He sat on the desk and crossed his legs, meeting Aziraphale’s gaze after he applied the plaster and took another gulp of tea.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Ok, I’ve got her hooked up and she’s taking the first lot ok, I’ve got a few minutes, shoot.”</p><p>“Who is… no. <em> What </em>is she?”</p><p>“Demon. Injured badly.”</p><p>“Clearly,” Aziraphale said sourly. “Who?”<br/>
<br/>
“Honestly, I dunno. But she’s someone that hell either wants dead or severely punished for something. I couldn’t leave her there. She said she’d already fought off ten of them, and I believe her, she’s strong, she’s a fighter, but she was overwhelmed by numbers. I took care of the last three. Oh, that reminds me, one of them clawed me a bit, haven’t even looked at my own injuries yet, don’t think they’re too bad but would you mind taking a quick look?”</p><p>“Of course, Crowley, let me see.”</p><p>Crowley went to remove his shirt, hesitated, bit his lip, then shrugged. Aziraphale would find out sooner or later. He took his shirt off and turned around. </p><p>“I was behind him, he was clawing up and over his head at my shoulders, nailed me a few times, but doesn’t feel too deep?”</p><p>Aziraphale drew in a quick breath when he saw Crowley’s back, but some of the scars were clearly old. He ignored them for the moment and inspected the fresh injuries. He snapped up a bowl of hibiscrub and swabs much as Crowley had, and began cleaning them. He used some surgical superglue on some of the worse ones, but most were superficial, he’d clearly got off lightly. Only one needed some stitches, which Aziraphale took care of deftly with a skilled hand. </p><p>While Aziraphale worked, Crowley removed the cannula from his own arm, hopeful it shouldn’t be needed again.</p><p>“Done,” Aziraphale declared. “Care to tell me about the old ones?”</p><p>“Not got time right now, Angel, this isn’t about me. Pretty sure you’re going to make your own guesses anyway, you’ll probably be right, but I don’t want to talk about specifics right now.”</p><p>“So. You found a demon being punished or executed for some crime, got involved, got injured yourself, and brought her back to your flat for what reason, exactly? Isn’t it rather risky?”</p><p>“Of course it’s fucking risky, but I couldn’t leave her there. There’s something weird going on. We’re on our own side now, remember? We’re free to do as we want, and something tells me that a demon who has pissed off hell enough to warrant this kind of punishment presumably wasn’t doing what hell wants generally - that is, bad deeds. Which leaves what?”</p><p>“Good deeds?”</p><p>“Maybe. I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt until I find out. Because if she’s not on their side, whose side <em> is </em>she on?”</p><p>“I see. Well, I applaud you not passing by on the other side, as it were…”</p><p>“Shut up,” Crowley groaned theatrically.</p><p>“...But please do be careful, Crowley. She could be a spy for all we know.”</p><p>“I’m not an idiot, Aziraphale. Which is also why I want you out of here again ASAP. Not hounding you out from rudeness, but the less time you spend around an unknown demonic quantity the better, I think. I’ll be careful. I can’t thank you enough for helping and I’ll let you know how it goes, but don’t come over unless I ask you to, ok? And don’t even call, I’ll call you, just in case, ok?”</p><p>“Alright Crowley.” Aziraphale stood, and paused. He reached out and laid a hand gently on Crowley’s knee where he sat cross legged on the desk. “I care about you. You know that, don’t you?”</p><p>Crowley placed his hand over the angel’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze in return. “I know, Angel. Thank you. I care about you too. Stay safe.”</p><p>Aziraphale snapped himself away rather than walk home while lightheaded. Crowley slid off the table and returned to the bedroom to watch over his patient. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter, Crowley seeks answers to his questions. His patient is understandably wary.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Talk to me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley gets to know his patient better, but it's slow going. Neither trusts the other entirely, there are misunderstandings, there's stubbornness, and eventually a surprise revelation.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Crowley snapped up a comfortable reclining chair into the bedroom and laid back to watch over the sleeping wolf demon. He needed rest, and honestly he thought she did as well, so rather than ending his miracle to knock her out, he took her vitals again, waited until the blood bag was empty, then hooked up the second one before setting his alarm and taking a brief nap, safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t wake until he allowed her to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Crowley woke up, the wolf was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In her place was a naked, unconscious woman-shaped being, lying on her front, still bandaged. He breathed a sigh of relief to see that she’d slipped back into an easier form to deal with. He stood up and checked the cannulas, relieved to find that they’d shifted in her arms to follow the location of the equivalent blood vessels as she changed. Somehow the bandages had adapted accordingly with the change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was about 5’10”, muscular build with short cropped black hair and mediterranean appearance, possibly Italian, with high cheekbones and a nose not unlike Crowley’s in profile. She had the look of someone not to be messed with. He saw the blood bag was nearly empty, so went to warm the one from the fridge so that it’d be ready to hook up by the time the previous one was finished. He hooked up the final bag, and only then did he finally snap to allow her to wake up when she was ready. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley sat back in the chair to observe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a while, but she began to stir. Her breathing was deeper, and she twitched in pain now and then. Crowley readied more pain medications for her in case she needed more when she woke. After a while she opened one eye, trying to focus on Crowley in confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whr’m’I?” she mumbled through parched lips. Crowley stood and brought a cup of water over to her with a straw and knelt next to the bed to help her drink. She initially flinched away from him, regarding him in deep suspicion. Crowley sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I’d wanted you dead, I’d have just left you there, not brought you home and put considerable time and effort into saving your literally damned life. It’s not fucking poison, it’s water. Drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did, taking little sips until she let her head loll back against the pillow again. She went to try to roll onto her back, Crowley stilled her with a hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a good idea, your back is a mangled mess, Stay on your front for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seemed to be taking stock of the situation, concern wrinkled her brow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m naked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were wolf shaped when I brought you back. You changed back while you were unconscious, I guess that’s why you didn’t manifest any clothing. I haven’t seen anything if that’s what’s concerning you, nor do I care. I can snap you up a hospital gown, but it’ll be a backless one as I need easy access to care for the wounds on your back.” He noted her look of confusion and continued. “They ripped your wings off,” Crowley reminded her gently. The other demon’s features twisted in pain. Crowley snapped up a hospital gown for her, then retreated and took a seat again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Crowley, what’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked confused, as if trying to remember something, scanning his features, wracking her brain for a memory that she couldn’t quite pin down. She gave up. “I’m Marchocias. Why did you help me? You’re a demon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That means fuck all, why did you help me? You could have just eaten me. Did you eat the others?” Demons consuming a downed adversary in a fight was not unheard of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley pulled a face. “No. I lit the corpses up in hellfire. Did you eat the other ones that attacked you before you landed on Earth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No time. Why’d you help me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley shrugged. “They were torturing and killing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What d’you care about demons torturing and killing another demon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be tortured and killed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I didn’t want you to be either. What did you do to piss them off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marchocias turned her head away from him with a brief cry of pain at the movement, burying her face in the pillow for a moment, then looking the other way, silent. Crowley sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like to eat? I can get you some human food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I want that?” Marchocias mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some people do. Offer’s on the table if you change your mind. I need to unhook your blood bag now and check your wounds. Hold still ok?  Still not gonna hurt you, or at least I’m going to try not to. Do you want more pain relief?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marchocias seemed to be thinking, then tried to shrug. She screamed out, tears welling in her eyes at the excruciating pain that resulted from the movement. Crowley laid a gentling hand on her arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t do that. Your trapezius is pretty messed up, you’ve got a lot of torn muscles back there. I did my best stitching things together but they’ll take time to heal. The damage was inflicted while your wings were out so it’s damaged your normal corporation as well. The left hand side is closed up but there wasn’t enough skin to pull all the way across at the bottom on the right so that one is still open at the bottom. Both have drains in. Just try to stay still, ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marchocias nodded almost imperceptibly, trying to stifle whimpers of pain. “More meds, yes,” she mumbled. Crowley fetched the morphine again.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Several hours had passed. Crowley didn’t dare try to sleep now that he had a conscious strange demon in his flat. He had left her to rest with the door open so he could hear if she shouted, and watched TV for a while. He left it a few more hours before he returned to the bedroom to check on her. She was sleeping again, whimpering in pain in her sleep. He took a seat again in the recliner to watch her through the hours of darkness, scrolling on his phone to try to distract himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t winning. He saw the blood seeping through the bandages and saw her flinch and cry out in her heavily drugged sleep with every accidental movement. He remembered that pain. You never forgot that. It had been thousands of years since he’d landed in Hell, a broken bloody, incinerated mess of fallen angel, dragged bleeding through the halls of the damned to the audience chamber with Lucifer. He remembered being pinned to the floor by strong claws as they tortured him. They’d cauterised his injuries by just pouring boiling sulphur over his back. He’d screamed until his lungs bled before passing out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’d woken up, who knows how long after, the boiling sulphur no longer hurt him any more, or the hellfire. He was part of it now, and it was part of him. Crowley lounged in his recliner of his dark flat and lit up a small gout of hellfire in his right hand, watching it flicker and play over his skin. He twirled it into dancing shapes, watching intently with his golden eyes, fascinated by the leaping flames, entranced. He heard a soft cry from the bed and banished the hellfire with a flick of his wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marchocias was still out of it, but clearly still in pain, twitching and whimpering. He was going to have to re-dress her wounds soon, the bandages were soaked from the drains in the stitched areas. What had she been punished for? Is this what Hell would have done to him if they’d found out about the Bastille? About the Nazis in the church? About the many other times he’d helped Aziraphale?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The demon on the bed shifted in her sleep, too much. She screamed out at the pain. Then she kept on screaming as each scream moved her ribcage and pulled on the injuries more, in a truly vicious circle of pain causing screams causing pain causing screams, the worse she screamed, the worse the pain was and the worse she screamed. Crowley cringed, unsure what to do. He rushed to the side of the bed and took her hand in his. </span>
</p><p>
  <a href="http://ukshires.net/AO3/brokenwings/05-08-20-3-wip4.jpg">
    <span>
      
    </span>
  </a>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhhh, shhhh, settle, try to breathe slow, try not to shout, you’re making the pain worse, shhhh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her screams were breaking down into unintelligible vocalisations and gasping sobs, her body shaking with it. She gripped Crowley’s hand tight, as if she were trying to pull herself out of the pain using the only tangible anchor she had on reality. Eventually her sobs receded into broken whimpers and tears. She turned her head to look at him again, crying out briefly at the sudden fresh stab of pain that came with the neck movement, her eyes were hazy with confusion, she was struggling to focus through the agony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be ok, it’ll pass eventually, it’s ok, I know what it feels like, it’s fucking shit, but you can deal with it, shhh….” Crowley tried to placate her, but her expression turned to snarling bitterness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck would you know about it?” She growled, letting go of his hand in disgust. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’ve been through it too,” Crowley replied gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bollocks. You’ve got wings, I said before. I saw them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley looked at her levelly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think I’m lying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>demons</span>
  </em>
  <span>, of course I fucking do. I know you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t trust me, because you think I’m lying.” Crowley said flatly. “Why the fuck would I save you and treat you if I wanted to harm you, or lie to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heal me up so you can torture me some more.” Marchocias replied sullenly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley rolled his eyes. Had he ever been this cynical? This broken in the belief that nothing but the worst was ever going to happen? Well yes, he supposed, he probably had been, until Aziraphale had begun to teach him otherwise. He stood from where he’d been kneeling next to the bed and ripped his shirt off, snapped the lights on, and turned his back on the bed. He waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard her breath still as she saw. Saw the mutilated scars on his back below where his remaining pair of wings would manifest - the scars of the other four. He half turned to regard her in silence. She avoided his gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, I know.” Crowley reiterated. “I’m going to give you more pain relief, then when that’s kicked in, I’m going to re-dress your injuries.” He snapped up a fresh shirt and pulled it over his head.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Crowley removed the dressings gently, then swabbed up the mess and applied fresh dressings. He’d remove some of the drains in a day or two. Marchocias lay still, drawing a sharp breath now and then at twinges of pain, letting him tend to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do I recognise your name?” She asked him quietly. Crowley froze, his hands stilled where they pressed a fresh dressing to a deeper wound on her flank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, why do you?” He hedged. “Just another demon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt that very much. Why would a regular demon risk everything to save a complete stranger? There’s something different about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could say the same about you,” Crowley rejoined as his hands began moving again, deftly winding a fresh bandage around her leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you wanted to fuck something you could just grab a succubus, you don’t need to go rescuing damsels in distress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley growled. Marchocias turned her head to look at him, seeing anger clouding his features, and her eyes widened in fear. Crowley’s fangs flashed as he bit back on the urge to hiss at her as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One, by the sounds of it you were hardly a damsel in distress if you’d already killed ten other demons first. Two: I have no desire to fuck a succubus. Three: Nor do I have any fucking interest in doing anything of the sort with you either. You are wildly misunderstanding what is going on here. This is not a bloody seduction. You’re hardly in fit shape for that regardless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>going on here?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, stopped you getting killed, fixing you up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You still haven’t explained why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>still haven’t told me why they were punishing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She curled her lip at him, her slightly longer wolf-like fang just showing. Crowley waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saved someone too.” </span>
  
  <span>Marchocias muttered sullenly. Crowley raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saved another demon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A human?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley sat back and waited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marchocias glared at him. “She was an angel.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter, Crowley considers what Marchocias has told him, she remembers something, and Crowley talks to Aziraphale about the predicament.<br/>-----------------------<br/><strong>CW: mention of pain and PTSD</strong><br/>This passage: "She screamed out at the pain. Then she kept on screaming as each scream moved her ribcage and pulled on the injuries more, in a truly vicious circle of pain causing screams causing pain causing screams, the worse she screamed, the worse the pain was and the worse she screamed."</p><p>Is also drawn from real experience. I had to have emergency abdominal surgery in an Egyptian hospital when I lived there, the cannula wasn't inserted properly, meaning that not only was I not getting adequate pain relief, but also it destroyed the vein it had gone through instead of into. If anyone even touched the drip bag I got lightning bolt pains up that arm. </p><p>So having just come round from having my abdomen sliced open and operated on, muscles cut through, which you need every time you draw breath - even shallow breaths hurt with no effective pain relief. </p><p>My mum had to do most of my nursing and lived in hospital room with me day and night for days, barely sleeping, as the nurses in the hospital didn't do very much. Fortunately my mum had trained as a human nurse for a while when she was younger, and spent rather longer as a vet nurse. </p><p>But she couldn't get proper painkillers for me despite chasing around the hospital trying to  get help for me. So when I shifted in bed and caused a pain spike, it made me scream, which made me pull more air into my lungs, using abdominal muscles that pull your diaphragm down - so that pulled on my incisions and made the pain ten times worse, which made me scream, which caused pain, which made me scream... repeat until insensible. It was hell on earth and I still have PTSD from the entire experience. It was horrific. Even the crying hurt, and it is the most difficult thing to be in a position where you're crying from pain because you're crying from pain and can't stop to stop it because it's so bad. </p><p>I tried to condense the all-too vivid memory of that experience into what Marchocias is going through. </p><p>It did occur to a lesser degree with my torn muscle issue a few weeks ago as well, but I've had a far longer experience now of handling severe chronic pain than I had back when I was a teenager. I also have access to actual effective pain medication. I had the discipline and experience to make myself breathe shallowly through it and not allow the tension to build up again like it had in the past.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Realisation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley takes in what his patient has told him, Marchocias remembers something, and Crowley discusses the predicament with Aziraphale. A short chapter this time so I'll upload the next one a bit quicker, possibly tomorrow.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley’s mind was whirling. A demon rescuing an angel. <em> Another </em> demon, rescuing <em> another </em>angel. He tried to keep the shock from his face. </p><p>“Well go on, you can kill me now if you like,” Marchocias’ voice was sullen again, accepting of her fate as she was in such a vulnerable position beneath what was clearly a far more powerful demon than herself. Crowley looked down vacantly at his hands, still holding the partly-wound bandage. He blinked, then resumed wrapping it around her leg before tying it off, standing, and looking around the room, licking his lip nervously. He wasn’t sure what to say. </p><p>“They’ll come for you,” Marchocias carried on. “For helping me, and killing the others. If you hand over my corpse they might thank you.”</p><p>“They won’t.” Crowley snapped back. “They can fucking <em> try </em> coming for me, but they’re not that stupid, and even if I <em> did </em>hand you over, they’d never thank me.” He started down at Marchocias, suddenly uneasy. “Who was the angel? What’s her name?”</p><p>“Fuck off.”</p><p>He sighed. “That’s fair, no reason to trust me, I guess I wouldn’t either. Is she safe now, d’you think? I might be able to get her some help. If you change your mind you can tell me, I promise I won’t harm her. I might be able to provide some protection while you’re out of action.”</p><p>Marchocias snorted in derision. “Yeah, right.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Well, offer’s there again, if you change your mind.” He took a gamble. “I know more about that than you’d think as well.”</p><p>Suddenly, Marchocias’ eyes widened again and her jaw dropped open in understanding. <em> “Crowley! </em> You’re <em> him </em> ! The… the… oh FUCK! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck the <em> holy water.”  </em></p><p>“So you remembered where you heard my name then.”</p><p>“The traitor. They couldn’t kill you. But you were working with an<em> angel. </em> You stopped armageddon.”</p><p>Crowley nodded.</p><p>“Well…” Marchocias drew a breath, wincing at the pain as she did. “That explains a<em> lot.” </em></p><p>“Yu<em>p.” </em></p><p>Marchocias was suspicious. “And you just <em> happened </em>to be passing by when you found us?”</p><p>Crowley held up his hands and shook his head. “No, that one’s not on me, no fucking clue how that coincidence came about, but I’m beginning to have my suspicions. How’d you end up on Earth anyway?”</p><p>“They were chasing me through hell, then things started getting bloody, and hazy, everything started moving too fast, and it felt like every time one of them got me a good blow again we just started hopping between planes of existence. Then we crash landed in this one, then you turned up.”</p><p>“You don’t say.” Crowley was quietly suspicious too. “Well, anyway, try to get some more rest. I’ll be here if you need me.” He stalked over to the recliner again and retook his watchful position. He snapped the lights off, but her wolfish amber eyes still glowed, lambent in the dim room, at least to Crowley’s pin-sharp serpentine night vision. He saw as her eyes began to close. </p><p>“Nyrise.” Marchocias whispered. </p><p>“Pardon?” Crowley wasn’t sure what he’d heard.</p><p>“Her name. Nyrise.” The wolf demon fell asleep.</p>
<hr/><p>After he was sure she was asleep, Crowley slunk on silent feet through to the study, closing the bedroom door behind him, and dialled the bookshop. The angel rarely ever slept, so naturally he answered fairly quickly. </p><p>“Crowley?”</p><p>“Of course it’s me, Aziraphale, who else calls you at…” he checked his watch, “...four AM?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Is everything alright?” </p><p>“Yes and no. I found out more, thank you for the blood by the way, it did the trick, she’s stable, resting now. She’s called Marchocias, and she’s heard of us, well, at least me. She knows I’m the one who worked with an angel to avert armageddon.”</p><p>“Well yes, I suspect most of hell knows you’re responsible by now. Does she pose a threat?”</p><p>“Well definitely not an immediate one. But get this. Want to know <em> why </em>they were punishing her?”</p><p>“I haven’t the faintest idea, but I have a feeling that you’re going to tell me.”</p><p>“She rescued someone.”</p><p>“A demon, rescuing someone?”</p><p>“Yup. Not just anyone either. An angel.” Crowley heard Aziraphale’s sharp intake of breath followed by a confused silence on the other end of the line. </p><p>“An angel?” Aziraphale whispered at last. </p><p>“Yeah, name of Nyrise apparently, ring any bells?”</p><p>“I’m afraid not, there are far too many angels in heaven for us to possibly know each other, besides you know I’ve been stationed on Earth from the beginning. Save for occasional trips upstairs for reports and meetings, I haven’t had much opportunity to mix with more than my immediate circle of colleagues for thousands of years, since before the Earth was made at least.”</p><p>“Well, it was a longshot. But listen, if there is any way to find out who she is, she might need keeping an eye on, because she’s likely in danger. Any way you can think of doing that?”</p><p>Aziraphale mulled it over. “Not immediately, no, but I shall work on it. But please do be careful, Crowley. If you’ve saved another traitor hell are apt to take a rather dim view of things. They may come after us again in retaliation.”</p><p>“Unless we can think of a way to intimidate them out of it, make them think we’re more trouble than we’re worth. I’ll talk to Marchocias more tomorrow, see what else I can get out of her, find out what she wants to do. See if this angel of hers was a one off thing or…”</p><p>“Or?”</p><p>Crowley hesitated. </p><p>“Or something like, um…. Us.”</p><p>“Us?”</p><p>“On our own side, kind of thing.”</p><p>“Oh. Right. Well you do that, jolly good idea. I’ll see what I can find out, then await your call. Goodnight, Crowley.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Angel.” Crowley hung up, and cast a glance back at the bedroom door. He needed answers. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Marchocias is still distrustful, and fiercely protective of her own angel. Crowley decides to call on Aziraphale's help again. We learn more about Nyrise, and Aziraphale resolves to help.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Saving angels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley learns more about Marchocias, but she is still wary and fiercely protective over her own angel. Crowley calls upon Aziraphale for help.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marchocias slowly inched into wakefulness. She was lying on soft cotton sheets, still on her front, still in agony. Her wolfish sense of smell probably on a par with Crowley’s serpentine one could pick up subtle extra elements of her environment. She could smell the other demon sitting nearby, a distinctive blend of leather, spice, musk and woodsmoke, but overlaid with a subtle undertone of the vanillin scent of old books, Earl Grey tea, cocoa and cinnamon. </p><p>But overwhelming the room was the scent of hot black coffee. She cranked one eye open and saw a mug sitting steaming gently on the bedside table. There was a straw in it. </p><p>“You’re awake.”</p><p>It was a statement, not a question. She grunted in reply, and smelled the demon step closer. He hunkered down by the bed and lifted the mug. “Coffee?”</p><p>She may not bother eating human food, but she’d spent thousands of years in Italy, and she appreciated good coffee.  Marchocias grunted again and opened her lips slightly for the straw, sipping at the scalding brew gratefully. After a while he set the mug aside and she felt his hands on her, gently checking over her dressings. She growled out in warning at the pain and felt his hands still on her skin. </p><p>“Sorry, more meds?”</p><p>Marchocias nodded slightly, wincing at the movement. Crowley stepped away and then returned to inject something into her cannula. She was still wary, why the hell was he helping her? Maybe it was all just part of hell’s plan to get information out of her. She cursed inwardly for letting Nyrise’s name slip last night. </p><p>The other demon had stepped back to her side and was uncovering the injuries on her back. “I’m going to remove the drain on the left hand side so the bottom can start to close up, but I'm leaving the one on the right for now. This shouldn’t hurt.”  She felt a small tug, heard the snip of scissors and another sharp tug as as retaining stitch was pulled, then a wet slithering sensation on her back as the drain was slid out. Crowley swabbed the injury and re-dressed it, before carrying on re-dressing the rest. </p><p>“D’you want some food this morning?”</p><p>“I’ll pass,” Marchocias grunted in reply. </p><p>“Suit yourself. Doesn’t have to be toast, can get you a raw steak if that’s more your thing. Or I’ve got some frozen rats I could defrost.”</p><p>“Rats?”</p><p>Crowley let his tongue go serpentine and flicker between his lips by way of reply. </p><p>“Oh. Gotcha. No.” She thought for a moment. “Can you help me move? Getting uncomfortable like this.”</p><p>“What d’you want to try? On your side might tug at your stitches. On your back is going to hurt but at least won’t pull on them. Can’t have you on your back for too long, but can do it for a while if you want?”</p><p>“Back.”</p><p>“Ok, don’t try to move yourself, you’ll only tug something, let me do the work, try to relax…”</p><p>Crowley rolled her with strong but gentle hands, she gritted her teeth but couldn’t hold back a cry of pain as he turned her onto her back. The memory foam mattress was at least soft against her injuries, but the relief was worth the discomfort somehow. </p><p>“You’re too gentle to be a demon,” Marchocias remarked, taking in his sympathetic expression. He was pretty handsome, really. Like herself, his main demonic distinguishing feature was his eyes, which he wasn’t bothering to mask in her presence. At least hers weren’t as blatantly non-human as his. He had a serpent sigil on his cheek. Her own permanent mark of damnation was a stylised wolf sigil on the right side of her neck which he could see now she was on her back. Too high to hide under anything but a tall polo neck collar or a scarf - they weren’t supposed to be able to easily hide their true nature, it was part of the curse of falling - to wear your shame on your corporation. </p><p>“Gentleness is learned,” Crowley admitted. He began to notice the subtle accent she spoke with. “Spent time in Italy then?” Marchocias smirked. </p><p>“Just a few thousand years. Romulus and Remus?”</p><p>“That was you?”</p><p>“Yeah. Cute little shits when they were kids, but hell told me I had to tempt one to kill the other. Had to follow orders, y’know.”</p><p>“I had to do some nannying as well - the Antichrist. Well… he was <em> supposed </em>to be the antichrist, there was a bit of a mix-up there. Thankfully he hasn’t killed anyone yet, well neither of them have, the real one or the mistaken one. Kind of hoping it stays that way.”</p><p>“You’re weird, for a demon.”</p><p>“I know.” Crowley agreed with a grin. “Not much of a demon, never was, never wanted to be.” He stepped back over to the recliner and relaxed back. “But you rescued an angel as well, want to talk about that yet?”</p><p>Marchocias’ expression hardened and she shut her mouth with a snap. Crowley sighed. “I want to help.” She said nothing but turned her face away from him in silence. She heard him stand up and leave the room, closing the door behind him. </p><p>Several minutes later he reappeared, with another being at his side. Marchocias was wary. The other being was man shaped, appeared about fifty, with short curly blonde hair, blue eyes and a reassuring smile. He was dressed in pale beige tones with a blue shirt, tartan bow tie, and tan shoes. His outfit looked about a hundred years out of date at least. He was clean shaven like Crowley, but the two were a complete contrast. </p><p>Marchocias recognised his scent immediately as the bookish, vanilla, tea, cocoa and cinnamon tinge that overlaid Crowley’s. Crowley’s scent overlaid his as well. These two definitely spent a lot of time together. </p><p>“Marchocias, this is Aziraphale.” The blonde smiled gently at her, and allowed snow-white wings to manifest behind him, his aura glowing a little brighter gold. </p><p>
  
</p><p>“Be not afraid,” he said, his voice low and warm. He stepped forward and knelt next to the bed. Marchocias flinched back in fear regardless. “I’m not going to hurt you. In fact you now have some of my blood in your veins.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Crowley stepped forward. “Aziraphale has become a bit of a guardian angel for you. I gave you some of my blood but it wasn’t enough - you’d lost a lot from the arteries, so Aziraphale donated some as well. We all originate from the same stock, our corporations are corrupted but we can still accept angelic blood. Angels can’t take tainted demonic blood though, only works one way.”</p><p>Marchocias wasn’t sure what to think. But it was clearly true, these two hadn’t just stopped armageddon together, there was something more. They obviously spent a lot of time together, trusted one another and… she saw the brief exchange of fond smiles between them - something more.</p><p>“How long have you two known each other?” She enquired. Both beings smiled wider at that and exchanged another look. </p><p>“Since the garden of Eden. How about you and Nyrise?”</p><p>Marchocias hesitated. Then caved in. “About three thousand years, give or take a century. She helped me raise Romulus and Remus, until there was a disagreement with head offices and I was ordered to hand them over to the humans. We were allowed to loiter around and influence things, but the kids needed a human upbringing.”</p><p>“Aziraphale helped me with who we thought was the Antichrist.”</p><p>“No shit?” Marchocias grinned. “So how did you come to raise the wrong kid?”</p><p>“Long story. Satanic nuns fucked up the baby handover.” Crowley gave Aziraphale a hard look. “And don’t you <em> dare </em>start on that whole ‘evil containing seeds of its own destruction’ bollocks again.” The angel smirked. </p><p>“Never said a word.”</p><p>Crowley side eyed him. “I heard you thinking it.” Marchocias found herself smiling at their bickering like an old married couple. She missed that with Nyrise. They were much the same when they were together. Aziraphale didn’t miss that look, nor the brief spike of love he felt in the room that for once hadn’t come from Crowley. He smiled back at her. </p><p>“Let me help. Do you have a safe way to contact her? She might be in need of protection as well.”</p><p>The thought had definitely crossed Marchocias’ mind too, given what had been done to her. She realised now why Crowley had brought the angel round, to reassure her that she could trust them. She came to a decision. </p>
<hr/><p>“Nyrise was in Nairobi - that’s where she does most of her work, well, mainly around African countries. Primarily the bigger cities. Nairobi, Cape Town, Johannesburg, Gaborone, Harare, Lilongwe, Lusaka, Dar Es Salam, Mogadishu, Kinshasa, Addis Ababa, Khartoum, Lagos, Accra, Dakar, Marrakesh and that lot.” She bit her lip at the memory. </p><p>“I tend to be posted around the Mediterranean.  We met in Tunis originally, then we’d meet up whenever my work took me from port to port, Algiers, Alexandria, Tripoli. I didn’t often get an excuse to wander further into Africa than the coast on the Med though.”</p><p>Aziraphale snapped up a comfortable chair next to Crowley’s and took a seat, while Crowley lounged back in his recliner. Marchocias continued. </p><p>“Anyhow, sometimes she gets into scrapes, I can tell somehow when she’s in trouble, some kind of vibration on the ethereal plane, like tickling my feathers…” She trailed off with a pained look, her feathers were now gone. “Oh fuck. Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck… what if she’s in trouble and I can’t feel it?” She went wide eyed in fear and tried to rise from the bed before falling back with a scream of pain. Crowley and Aziraphale both rushed forward to soothe her. The angel pushed forward a miracle to help ease the pain a little and settle her down. </p><p>“It’s quite alright, dear. Just tell us and we’ll do what we can.” He looked at Crowley. “Is that how you always knew how I was in trouble, Crowley? Your feathers?” Crowley looked embarrassed and nodded.</p><p>“Yeah, tickles. Gets stronger the closer I get to you, that’s how I was able to home in on you when the shit hit the fan.” Crowley stroked Marchocias’ hair gently as her breathing got back under control again. “You’re ok, just breathe slow, try not to breathe too deeply, it pulls on your stitches, and the muscles are still trying to knit together properly, shhhh…”</p><p>Marchocias looked up at him finally with gratitude in her eyes. She reached up to grip his free hand and closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breaths. He squeezed her hand in comfort while she did, still stroking her short hair with the other. “We’ll help her somehow. Just try to relax.”</p><p>After a few minutes, Marchocias felt well enough to continue. “I could feel her panicking, she was in Nairobi. I miracled there and she was being held by kidnappers, they were going to torture her. Thing is, they <em> knew </em>she was an angel. They’d put her in a demonic circle so she couldn’t escape. Fortunately I could breach it. I killed the lot of them and got her free. With hindsight I should have left some of them alive to find out how they knew what to do with her and why.”</p><p>“Anyway, I felt something else bad approaching, so I got her out of there, miracled her to safety somewhere.  I don’t know where, I just thought ‘put her somewhere she knows is safe’ and snapped. Next thing I know, the circle was lighting up and Stolas was there, he grabbed me and yanked me down to hell. He said they’d been watching me for a while, I guess the angel rescue was the final bit of evidence they needed, he set his henchmen on me, and they just started trying to rip me to shreds as an example to other demons he said before he left them to it.”</p><p>Crowley squeezed her hand again, and avoided Aziraphale’s eye. “What does she look like?” </p><p>“Yoruba tribe in appearance, she usually has her hair braided with golden threads, about six foot, slim, she has a small golden tattoo on her upper right arm showing a winged gemsbok, which is a form she takes sometimes, although not always with the wings. As a gemsbok she sometimes has golden horns, unless she’s trying to blend in.”</p><p>Aziraphale nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll leave you with Crowley now, but do try not to fret, my dear.” He patted her hand and stood to leave. “You’re in good hands.” With a warm smile at his demon, the angel snapped his fingers and disappeared. Crowley tried to avoid Marchocias’ gaze, blushing slightly. </p><p>“Well, now you’re feeling a bit less crap, you can watch some TV if you like? He waved at the flatscreen on the wall to turn it on. “Pick what you like. I’m going to get some more coffee.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The art for this chapter didn't go quite as I wanted it to - I'm happy with the body and wings, but the face is such a small scale - smaller than the end of my pinky finger, and it turns out I'm no good at freehanding faces especially at that tiny scale yet. Huge thanks to Miele_Petite for helping me pull it back from the brink so I didn't have to bin it entirely. I't still not what I wanted it to be, but looks less horrific than it did before!<br/>-----------<br/>next chapter, Aziraphale sets out to find Nyrise, but she's one angel in a big universe, he needs lateral thinking to get started in the right spot.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Needle in a haystack</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale considers how to set about finding Nyrise, then hits upon an idea and calls Crowley to see if his theory is correct. We learn more about Marchocias and Nyrise and their history together. Not as long as Crowley and Aziraphale, but they still have a fair amount of history together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Aziraphale was at a loss. Finding Nyrise, a single angel in all of Africa was going to be like finding one very tiny needle in a billion huge haystacks, especially if she was actively hiding and trying to stay under the radar. Where on earth could one start? Might she have actually returned to heaven? Or gone to somewhere on Earth where she felt safe? It would be relatively easy if Aziraphale still had free access to heaven and to ask other angels to help, but he really didn’t feel like pushing his luck by showing his face there again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where would he go that he felt safe, if Crowley had done the same to him? Where might his own subconscious send him? Somewhere he associated with both Crowley and safety, he assumed. His first thought was the bookshop, but then again, that’d be too obvious in his case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps…? He eyed the phone, Crowley had initially told him not to call, but now his demonic guest had met Aziraphale it probably didn’t matter so much. He picked up the phone and dialled Crowley. </span>
</p><p>
  <a href="http://ukshires.net/AO3/brokenwings/30-08-20angelphoneFINAL.jpg">
    <span>
      
    </span>
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</p><p>
  <span>Within two rings, Crowley answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Aziraphale?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to check something. If you had to miracle me so that I’d go away to somewhere I’d feel safe, where do you think I’d go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bookshop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if that wasn’t an option? If home wasn’t an option, where do you think I’d go where I know you’d find me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where we first met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought so. Thank you, I just wanted to test a theory.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was right then?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yes, Crowley. You were right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to know.” Aziraphale could almost hear the demon’s fond smile over the phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take care Crowley, I’ll be back when I can. I have to take a trip to Tunisia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Angel. Stay safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where they’d first met. It no longer stood of course, Eden had been wiped from the face of the earth after its purpose had been fulfilled. One might still find the odd stone from the walls here and there in the desert, but the rest was long gone and covered in shifting sands. Still, it was miles from anywhere and not a place that anyone save for a couple of angels knew the location of. </span>
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  <span>Even humans who had stumbled past it on occasion by accident had no idea what they were looking at. No archaeological digs had ever been tried there, the handful of stone blocks remaining carried not even the slightest bit of interest for the few humans passing by, who tended to be rather more concerned with the level of water in their supplies, the state of their rapidly starving camels, or in recent years, the level of petrol in their fuel tanks as they desperately tried to make it back to civilisation again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was getting sidetracked. It was where he’d first met Crowley, that was the important bit, so for Marchocias and Nyrise: Tunis? Or Ifrīqiyyah as he’d known it for far longer, and presumably so had they at first. The country had been Numidia back then. He’d visited once or twice, not enough to know the city very well, but it was a start. He’d try to remember the older areas and begin there. With a snap, Aziraphale teleported himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <a href="http://ukshires.net/AO3/brokenwings/12-08-20-aziracrow.jpg">
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  <span>The angel arrived at the place he remembered best, Bal El Bahr, the Easternmost gate of the old City walls, near the docks and a short walk from the old Grand Hotel De Paris which he recalled from his last visit there in the late 1800s. It had changed vastly since then, of course, but Aziraphale set out walking the streets of the oldest part of the city, his angelic senses attuned to the ethereal plane, feeling out for any other faint angelic aura in the area as he went. He didn’t need to sleep, so he’d quarter the city on foot ceaselessly until he found what he was looking for. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Crowley looked up from his phone. Marchocias was fidgety and clearly uncomfortable. “Want me to roll you over again?” he asked quietly. She nodded, grimacing at the pain. Crowley gently rolled her over, and took the opportunity to check her wounds again. Those on her back definitely needed a dressing change since the pressure had squeezed more mess out onto the dressings, and he removed the right hand drain as well, hoping that the bottom of the injury would start to heal up soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few days elapsed. Crowley kept Marchocias comfortable as she healed. They talked, and she told him how she’d started out in the early days as one of society’s most reviled demons - the wolf who stole livestock in the night. She’d also been responsible for the myth of wolves stealing babies away. She admitted it had been true, but there had been a reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes babies were born to families who were not good to their children. The ones where kids didn’t survive, where horrible things happened. Marchocias stole any new babies from those families, and placed them on the doorsteps of childless people who wanted kids but couldn’t have them.  Better homes than the ones they’d been born into, where they’d survive and be loved. Technically she was “doing evil” by stealing babies. Hell didn’t bother to investigate further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nyrise was a guardian angel for the most part. Not anyone high up, not an archangel, power, throne or cherubim, just a regular angel doing the hard work jobs that no one else wanted, hands-on with the humans. She had been protecting a caravan of livestock that had trekked along the coastline to Tunis, they’d been harried by wolves along the way, picking off the weaker lambs and calves. Nyrise had begun to suspect that the interference wasn’t entirely natural, and she’d been right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d made it to the market in the old city with the remains of the flock and the herd of cattle, and Nyrise had sat up that night watching over them with the herdsmen, as the humans nodded off from exhaustion one by one, until only she remained awake to watch over the animals and protect them from theft. She hadn’t expected a wolf to follow them into the city itself, so when she saw Marchocias she already suspected she wasn’t everything she seemed, and had leapt down to smite her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marchocias had simply rolled on her back, offering no resistance. “I didn’t eat the animals. I was with the other wolves but I took none, I prevented them from taking too many if anything. I warned them off after they’d made one kill per night, they’d have taken more otherwise and stampeded your animals as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nyrise stared at her incredulous. “Why on earth should I believe you, demon?” Marchocias changed back into her human form, but remained sitting on the ground at the angel’s feet. She reached into her robe and withdrew a small cloth bag which she threw at Nyrise’s feet with a chinking sound. “Payment for the livestock, it’d pay for all the taken ones ten times over. Let the herdsman find it in the morning. I’m sorry, but the wolves had to eat or they would starve, and they have pups to feed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nyrise flexed her hands from the clenched fists they had been held in and snapped the bag into her fingers. It contained real silver coins. “Why would you care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know, but I was following you anyway. You looked interesting, for an angel. You were mixing with the humans, laughing with them, caring for them, not just standing by watching over them from a distance. You get involved. I haven’t seen an angel act like that before. You care, you’re not just doing a job you don’t want to be doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nyrise held out a hand to help the demon to her feet. “Want to share some fruit juice? I’m Nyrise.” The demon stood and brushed herself off before following the angel to a low wall where they sat side by side watching the flock. Nyrise lifted a bottle of sweet fruit drink from her bag by the wall and handed it over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, I’m Marchocias.” She took a swig. “Good stuff.” The demon handed the flask back to the angel again, and growled at a street dog who came sniffing too close to the flock, warning it off. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Crowley felt relaxed enough to take short naps in the spare bedroom from time to time while Marchocias slept now. He was asleep when he was roused by his mobile ringing from an unknown international number. He answered it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s me Crowley. I’m having a devil of a time trying to track down Nyrise. Do you have anything else I can go on to narrow it down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley yawned and stretched. “Yeah I do actually. If you’d only agree to buy a bloody mobile I might have been able to share all this with you a bit easier…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes yes, I get the idea, just tell me what you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look for the ancient cattle market, that might be a good place to start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. I’m not sure I recall where that was so I’ll do some research, maybe ask at the museum later, or check the old maps in the library. How is she holding up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the mend, left wing injury is healing up nicely, the right wing side is closing up rather slower, but I haven’t the faintest idea how one does a skin graft so it’ll have to heal the old fashioned way. Hoping to get her up and walking later today, not on the busted leg of course, but get her vertical and hopping about on the good one. She’s a lot more relaxed now, and not needing much in the way of pain relief which is good. She’s sleeping easier. I’m taking the chance to get my head down a bit now and then as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that is good news.” Aziraphale paused. The line was crackly, Crowley waited patiently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley? I … I miss you, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you too, Angel,” Crowley admitted quietly. “Stay safe, ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too, Crowley. Goodbye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley set his phone aside on the pillow with a smile. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You can probably tell which drawing I did first!</p><p>Next chapter, Aziraphale's search continues, will he find Nyrise before heaven or hell do?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Tunis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aziraphale continues on his quest to track down Nyrise. Using a bit of lateral thinking, he comes up with a plan. The question is, will it work, and if he finds her, will she even talk to him? </p><p>Aziraphale surprises Crowley.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale had spent the past few days wandering around the more ancient areas, old Roman ruins and other touristy areas, but apart from floods of annoying humans photographing everything in sight, he couldn’t pick up any angelic auras in those areas so he’d given up and returned to the old City. Every now and then he thought he might have picked up the faintest hint of angelic grace, but only for a split second and then it was gone. </p><p>Then it occurred to him that his own was likely glowing out like a beacon and if Nyrise was clever, which she almost certainly was if she’d been meeting with a demon like Aziraphale had for the past couple of thousand years, she would be avoiding other angels as well under the circumstances. Aziraphale miracled his own aura into a quieter state, harder to detect. Perhaps now he could get closer without alerting her. </p><p>Armed with the new information from Crowley, he set off to the museum to ask where the ancient cattle market might have been located. The curator wasn’t sure, she was new to the city, but she did show Aziraphale, who was posing as a visiting professor, to the museum library and allowed him to browse through the old maps.  She helped out with translations here and there when he couldn’t quite remember his ancient Arabic and Berber dialects. </p><p>Eventually he pinned down the most likely spot for the time period, thanked and blessed the curator for her assistance, and left, heading past the Dar El Bey palace and scouring the streets until he found the area which had been built on. He took a seat outside a convenient café and ordered some tea, snapping up a newspaper and settling down to wait. The owner of the establishment didn’t seem to find himself able to concentrate on the fact that the strange Englishman had been sitting outside his café for going on six hours, he kept the tea coming, and money kept coming back, that’s all he needed to know. </p>
<hr/><p>Eventually, Aziraphale felt it again, a brief flash of angelic grace flitting across the edge of his consciousness like a feather brushing against his skin - there and gone again just as fast. She was coming closer evidently. He waited. After a while, the contact came again, and this time it didn’t diminish, but carried on getting stronger. Soon she’d be coming into view. He glanced over his paper in the direction the sensation was stemming from, until he eventually spied a tall Western African woman in a light blue Abaya, with hair in long box braids. She looked watchful. </p><p>
  
</p><p>Aziraphale discreetly miracled up a tiny metal statue of Romulus and Remus with the she-wolf who raised them on the table in front of him. The power of the tiny miracle caught Nyrise’s attention and her head snapped around to stare directly at Aziraphale in surprise. He smiled, folded his paper slowly and set it down next to the little statuette on the table. Her eyes drifted down to it and she halted in her tracks, eyes wide. Aziraphale remained still, smiling warmly and waiting for her to decide what she wanted to do. </p><p>Nyrise raised her head and walked toward Aziraphale, drawing up a chair and sitting down opposite him, wary and yet somehow looking unafraid. </p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“I am the Principality Aziraphale, former guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden, retired. You are Nyrise, I take it? I mean you no harm, my dear.”</p><p>“Retired? Since when can angels retire?”</p><p>“Since Armageddon.”</p><p>Nyrise’s eyes darted around anxiously, as if checking for danger, before focussing on Aziraphale again. “That was <em> you?” </em> She hissed incredulously. </p><p>Aziraphale nodded. “Myself… and a demon known as Crowley, we have known each other even longer than you have known Marchocias. We are very close, and remain so. You’re not the first, my dear.”</p><p>Nyrise picked up the little statuette in her fingers and examined it, biting her lip anxiously, wondering what to say. </p><p>“Keep it,” Aziraphale murmured. “It’s just a little souvenir snapped from some street market in Rome. I wanted to ensure you got the message.” He sipped his tea. “She’s safe. She’s in the safest hands I know, and she’s worried about you.”</p><p>“Where is she?”</p><p>“In London, with Crowley. She’s injured, Hell tried to kill her, or at least mutilate her, we’re not sure which, but if Crowley hadn’t intervened, she’d have discorporated, then ended up back in hell so they could start on her all over again.”</p><p>He reached his hand across the table to cover hers, and met her gaze. “They took her wings, I’m dreadfully sorry. That damage is permanent I’m afraid, they won’t return even if she discorporates and gets another body, that damage is supernatural. Crowley has healed her up as much as he can, but he can’t fix that. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Nyrise was turning the tiny statuette over and over in her fingers. “Does heaven know? Are they after me? I wasn’t sure.”</p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t know either, my dear. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t possible. Heaven and Hell collaborated over me and Crowley, they do share information sometimes it seems, so I wouldn’t discount the possibility. Which means that you might be in danger. No one knows where Marchocias is, there were no surviving witnesses, Crowley made sure of that when he rescued her. You are welcome to come back with me there to see her, we might be able to protect you better there.”</p><p>“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”</p><p>“Do you have one of those mobile telephones, my dear?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“May I borrow it?”</p><p>Nyrise handed it over. Aziraphale tapped Crowley’s number in, and placed the call. </p><p>“Crowley? It’s me, I’ve found her. Can you put Marchocias on please? Oh hello dear, I believe I’ve found someone you might wish to talk to, I’ll hand you over…” He smiled and passed the phone back to the other angel. </p><p>“Demon-paws? Oh heavens you’re safe, it’s really you!” A huge smile cracked Nyrise’s features in relief, she reached out and squeezed Aziraphale’s hands in thanks as she chatted with Marchocias. Aziraphale ordered her a tea while he waited. After a while she said her goodbyes, the tension dissipated from her frame, then handed the phone back to Aziraphale. “Your demon wants to talk to you again.”</p><p>Aziraphale took the phone back with a happy little wink. “Crowley? Yes, she’s thrilled. Shall I bring her back with me? Righto. Splendid. I’m glad it’s cheered up your little friend as well. We shall see you shortly then. Yes, you too, Crowley.” He passed the phone back again. Nyrise was drinking her tea happily. </p><p>“How did you find me anyway?”</p><p>“You met here, didn’t you? The old livestock market once stood in this spot.”</p><p>“Yes, but how did you know I’d come here?”</p><p>“Because it’s what I would do if Crowley and I were in the same situation.” </p><p>They finished their tea and stood to leave, Aziraphale allowed Nyrise lead them to a quiet area where he could snap them both to Crowley’s flat without anyone noticing their sudden disappearance. </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span class="small">
    <em>(Nyrise's tattoo/angelic animal form, winged gemsbok)</em>
  </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>Nyrise landed hand in hand with Aziraphale in Crowley’s study, finding herself looking at a huge red marble desk with an elaborate red velvet and gilt throne behind it, occupied by a tall, lean redheaded demon who regarded her with serpentine yellow eyes. For a moment, Nyrise worried that it might have been a trap after all, but then she felt a familiar demonic aura from nearby and knew that Marchocias was indeed there too. </p><p>“Hi,” drawled Crowley, standing and extending his hand across the desk to take hers. “I’m Crowley. Welcome to London. Before we go through to see Marchocias, please don’t hug her, her back is a mess and if you touch it you’ll hurt her, ok? Go gentle. She’s got several other injuries as well, I reset her tail before she changed back to humanoid shape again, but her leg is broken and splinted, she has several lacerations on her flanks and thighs, several contusions, I drained a haematoma that showed up the other day from a deeper injury, but the worst is definitely where her wings were. Don’t let her move too much or too quickly either, got me?”</p><p>Nyrise nodded hastily, eager to see her own demon as soon as possible. Crowley nodded and stood, flicking his head to indicate that she should follow him through into a room festooned with verdant green plants, and then left into a spacious bedroom, where Marchocias lay on a bed, propped up with a multitude of soft pillows. She smiled widely as soon as she saw her angel in the doorway. </p><p>Nyrise approached quickly but cautiously, and fell to her knees next to the low bed, taking one of Marchocias’ hands in her own and lifting it to her lips to kiss her knuckles gently. The demon looked stunned at that, searching her angel’s eyes questioningly. Nyrise laughed in relief. </p><p>“Demon-paws, I’ve gone thousands of years and always wanted to kiss you, I thought that was as good a way as any to start, love.”</p><p>“Well shut up and do it properly, Bokkie.” </p><p>Nyrise blushed a little, but leaned forward to kiss her lips. Aziraphale blushed even harder and averted his eyes. Crowley grinned slightly, then noticed Aziraphale’s reaction and suddenly felt rather awkward himself. Aziraphale glanced up and their eyes met, Crowley opened his mouth as if about to say something, then changed his mind and shut it again. He looked out into the plant room, glanced back at the couple getting thoroughly re-acquainted in his bedroom, then turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen. </p><p>“I’ll just… uh… put the kettle on, yeah? Yeah. Yeah I’ll do that, I’ll uh.. Yeah…” He darted off. Aziraphale bit his lip and went through to the study to sit on the throne and wait. After a while Crowley returned bearing a tray with a pot of tea and four cups. He’d managed to find some scones, jam and clotted cream somewhere as well, in deference to Aziraphale’s preferences. He began setting it all out on the desk, avoiding eye contact. </p><p>“Crowley?”</p><p>“Hmm?” Crowley was bending over, pouring the tea.</p><p>“You mentioned to me, how you wondered if those two might be ‘something like us.’”</p><p>“Uh. Yeah?”</p><p>“Well, are we perhaps, anything like… them?”</p><p>The teapot was placed clumsily down on the tray again with a clatter and a splash of tea landed on Crowley’s hand. He licked at it distractedly. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I do feel an affinity for Nyrise’s words just then.”</p><p>“You do?” Crowley tried not to squeak and coughed, glancing away. “I mean, you do?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Right, well then. Um. Yeah. Maybe Marchocias has a point too then.” He rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip, then felt Aziraphale’s hand on his where he leant on the table. He looked up and met Aziraphale’s serious grey-blue eyes. He hadn’t realised quite how close he had been standing to where his angel sat on the throne, and suddenly wasn’t sure whether to be glad or afraid. </p><p>Aziraphale leant forward and kissed him. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter, Crowley and Aziraphale talk things out and Crowley comes up with a plan of action.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Just a kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley and Aziraphale talk things out, Crowley comes up with a plan of action, and there's snuggles (but no smut).</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley lost track of time entirely. He was aware of several things however - the cold marble desk under his left hand, the edge of it digging into his thigh, his right hand balancing him on the arm of the throne. He fell to his knees and brought his hand up to stroke Aziraphale’s face, wrapping his other arm around him to pull him closer.</p><p>
  
</p><p>His awareness became nothing more than the angel’s lips on his, pressing against him, going on and on and on, and Crowley didn’t want it to stop.  Aziraphale brought both hands up to cradle his face now, and Crowley held him tighter.</p><p>After a while they did break off, breathless and smiling, foreheads resting against each other. Crowley found his hands on Aziraphale’s thighs and stared down at them, lost for words. </p><p>“Was that alright, Crowley?”</p><p>“Mmm?”</p><p>Aziraphale tucked a finger under the demon’s chin to lift it up and gazed into his eyes.</p><p>“Was it alright, the kiss?”</p><p>“Oh, more than. Just getting my head around it, that’s all.”</p><p>“It was unexpected? You didn’t know I love you, Crowley?”</p><p>“Oh no, I knew you loved me, just wasn’t sure it was quite like that,” he caught Aziraphale’s slightly worried expression. “Glad to see we’re on the same page anyway,” he added hurriedly to forestall any misgivings the angel might have had. “Can we do it again?” Crowley grinned with a twinkle in his eye, and Aziraphale returned the same look. </p><p>“Absolutely, you delightful demon.”</p><p>This time Crowley led, bolder now, and allowing his hands to stroke over Aziraphale’s strong frame, then tugging him tighter and closer to him, feeling the warmth of an embrace he’d never experienced before. He could taste Aziraphale’s love, as easily as the angel could taste his. They eventually broke off again, still flustered from the intensity. Aziraphale cleared his throat and rested a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. </p><p>“I believe I’m ready for that cup of tea now, dear.”</p><p>Crowley poured some tea out, then knocked at the bedroom door quietly. “Tea anyone?” He heard a little giggle, then Nyrise came to the door, all smiles. </p><p>“Thank you, I’ll take mine with one sugar, no milk. I don’t suppose Marchocias could get some black coffee instead though please?”</p><p>“Sure.” Crowley headed off to the kitchen again while Nyrise grabbed the smaller gilded chair from near the door and brought it up to the table to sit near Aziraphale. </p><p>“I feel a lot of love in here as well…” she raised a questioning eyebrow at Aziraphale. </p><p>“Yes, well we rather followed your lead, my dear. Thank you for the inspiration.”</p><p>Nyrise looked surprised. “You weren’t already…?”</p><p>“Well yes we have obviously loved each other for thousands of years, but although since armageddon we have been closer, we hadn’t actually made it completely clear with each other until just now.” He was blushing quite prettily. Nyrise beamed at him and stood to wrap him in a hug. </p><p>“Congratulations, and thank you for finding me and bringing me here so I could be with Marchocias. She tells me she has your blood in her veins now. I didn’t know that was possible. An angel saving a demon who saved an angel.”</p><p>“To be quite honest my dear, I didn’t know it was possible either, you primarily have Crowley to thank for this however.”</p><p>Crowley came back through with a coffee for Marchocias, and took it into the bedroom for her and to see how she was doing, leaving the two angels to chat. He set the coffee cup by the bedside and helped the other demon sit up a little straighter. She had a peculiar expression on her face. </p><p>“She kissed me, Crowley.”</p><p>“I saw.”</p><p>“What the fuck? I mean I didn’t really see that coming. Is it always like that?”</p><p>“Dunno, I only found out just after you did.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Aziraphale just kissed me too, after we left you two alone.”</p><p>“Huh? I assumed you two were already a couple.”</p><p>Crowley scrunched his face up a little. “Weeeellll…. It was a bit of a grey area. Best friends for sure, and I loved him of course, and I kind of knew he loved me, but we’d never actually said anything about it… oh <em> shit </em>. Hang on, be back in a sec…”  Crowley stood up and rushed back through to the study, where he interrupted the two angels’ chat to grab Aziraphale’s face in his hands, kissed him again, then pulled back, looked him in the eyes and declared “I love you, Aziraphale.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Aziraphale stared at him in bafflement. “I sort of assumed we had established that, my dear.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I forgot to actually <em> say </em>it. Sorry.” </p><p>“You’re forgiven.”</p><p>“And don’t start <em> that </em>again.” Crowley fired back with a wink. He kissed Aziraphale on the forehead then darted back to the bedroom again, taking a cup of tea with him.</p><p>“Sorry about that, forgot to do something. Feeling ok?”</p><p>“Yeah, a lot better actually. I think angel kisses help.”</p><p>“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Crowley replied drily, taking a sip of his own tea. “So… we’re a pair of fucked up demons who have somehow had angels fall in love with us. Never thought I’d find another one to be honest. Cheers.” He reached out to chink his cup against Marchocias’</p><p>“I want to try standing and walking some more in a bit.”</p><p>“Sure, but then I think we need to have a chat, all of us, about what happens next, because I get the feeling you two aren’t out of the woods yet.”</p>
<hr/><p>Crowley spent some time checking that Nyrise was happy with looking after Marchocias’ injuries and dressings, and helping her move about, and ordered up some food which Aziraphale tried to encourage everyone to try a bit of. Nice as it was, Crowley was very aware that with all of them now in one place, the potential danger was increased, and all they had was more brain power as a group to work out what to do about it. </p><p>“So, lovely as this all is, it’s an inescapable fact that we’re all in danger right now, and Marchocias isn’t healed up enough yet to be as much help defensively should we be discovered and attacked. We have no idea if our respective sides have worked it out yet, or if they know where you are, or if they’ll come for you, which means a lot of uncertainty. Perhaps the way around it is to be proactive.” Crowley looked around at some rather confused faces. </p><p>“By which I mean to say, to quote Michael Caine: <em> ‘hang on a minute lads, I got a great idea…’” </em></p><p>“Are you going to blow the bloody doors off?” Marchocias responded drily.</p><p>“Not quite, but I do want to blow their minds.” Crowly grinned devilishly, and winked at Aziraphale, who found a slow smile suffusing his own features in response.</p><p>They discussed things for an hour or two more before retiring to bed. Marchocias and Nyrise took the master bedroom as that’s where Marchocias had become comfortable, while Crowley introduced Aziraphale to the guest suite nervously. He snapped up some black silk pyjamas, then a second pair for Aziraphale, handing the folded pile over with an anxious smile. </p><p>“Are you ok with this, Angel?”</p><p>Aziraphale stepped forward and gave him a quick kiss. “I don’t usually partake of sleep but I’m happy to remain awake and keep watch while the rest of you do, which I can do as easily from the bed as anywhere.” He snapped himself into the pyjamas and looked down at himself. “Not my usual style but they are comfortable, thank you dear.” He slid into the bed and looked up at Crowley expectantly. </p><p>Crowley rubbed the back of his neck nervously for a moment, as if battling with some inner turmoil, hesitating. </p><p>“Crowley, are you quite alright?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, I just, um…” he sat down on the edge of the bed and drew a deep breath. “Just kind of wanted to clarify stuff, that’s all.”</p><p>“Go ahead, Crowley, you know you can tell me anything.”</p><p>“Right. Um. Thing is, I, uh… I’d like more of the kissing and hugging, if that’s ok with you…”</p><p>“Of course it is, Crowley.”</p><p>“But um, were you, uh… expecting more?”</p><p>“More...? Oh…” Realisation dawned on the angel. “I see, well, not exactly, that’s not really something angels do.  We haven’t really been into that kind of thing since the whole nephilim incident.  The Almighty ensured that it wouldn’t happen again, didn’t want us getting any ideas. I do hope that’s not too terrible of a revelation for you, Crowley.”</p><p>“Oh thank fuck, no, not at all. Glad we’re on the same page. Never really had a taste for it myself, other demons made it look so, y’know… <em> messy </em>and stuff.” Crowley radiated almost palpable relief. Aziraphale spread his arms wide and beckoned him forward. </p><p>“Now that’s out of the way, come here, you may have as many hugs as you desire, my dear.” Crowley eagerly complied, slithering under the sheets and resting his head on Aziraphale’s chest, one hand draped across him, while the angel’s strong arms wrapped him up in a soothing embrace. He felt Aziraphale place a kiss on the top of his head.</p><p>“You get some rest now, Crowley, I’ll keep watch.” Aziraphale snapped up a book from home to read, stroking Crowley’s shoulder with one hand, occasionally pausing to turn a page, while the demon’s breathing slowed and he drifted off, safe in his angel’s arms. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>next chapter - as weeks go by, Marchocias continues to slowly recover, and they put Crowley's plan into action. He chooses a rather symbolic location to make a point to heaven and hell.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Hampstead Heath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The final showdown, Crowley has a plan to help win safety for their fellow demon and angel, as well as to remind heaven and hell why they shouldn't mess with Crowley and Aziraphale either.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marchocias and Nyrise had each written a letter, then snapped them away to their respective destinations with a grim finality. They hoped they were doing the right thing. Several weeks had elapsed and Marchocias was fully healed, although she was considerably more comfortable moving about in her wolflike shape, able to hop around on three good legs rather better than the one good leg she had in a human shape, dotting the injured fourth to the ground only occasionally. </p><p>
  
</p><p>Crowley had insisted that she spend more time humanoid precisely for that reason, to make her start to take weight on her healed leg and rebuild muscle tone. She complied with a grumpy reluctance that only a demon can fully exhibit, and a string of expletives often followed her around the flat as she limped about, mostly directed at Crowley as a handy target for her discomfort, for making her do so.  Now her movements were as fluid as they had presumably been before. </p><p>But Crowley had been growing anxious. He hadn’t allowed anyone else to leave the flat since they’d got there, and given what he’d noticed on the few occasions he had been out himself, he was glad, as what he’d experienced might have made the others more worried than they needed to be. </p><p>Crowley could pick up the demonic auras, and even an angelic one loitering somewhere in the city. Thankfully they didn’t seem to have linked Crowley with the incident yet, or they’d have made straight for Mayfair. At the moment it seemed that the demons must know that Marchocias had been lost somewhere on Earth, in England, then in London, in that order. Thankfully where he’d encountered her wasn’t anywhere near his home, but several miles to the West. </p><p>They must be having difficulty following her occult trail since the powerful pulses that had sent her and her pursuers ricocheting around the planes of existence were enough to lead them to London, but Crowley’s minor miracle to snap her back to his place would have faded almost immediately and become undetectable within minutes. </p><p>Still, he could sense them out there, searching, and as he and Aziraphale were the only occult or ethereal beings known to habitually reside in London, it was only a matter of time before head offices put two and two together and came looking. Crowley preferred that they meet at a time and location of his choosing rather than succumb to an ambush. </p><p>Which led to the four of them driving North to Hampstead Heath in the small hours of the morning.  It was long past when most humans would be interested in going up there, even those who were most famed for frequenting the area had usually paired up and moved on by this time of the night, in the darkness before dawn. </p><p>Crowley parked the Bentley and they finished the journey on foot, walking up Parliament Hill from where they could see almost the entirety of the City of London sprawled out below them in a huge panoramic arc of glittering lights. They could see the red blinking aircraft warning lights atop all the tallest skyscrapers, Canary Wharf Tower, the Gherkin, the Shard, the Walkie-Talkie building, Nat West Tower, even the dome of St. Paul’s cathedral was visible, and BT Tower of course, which Crowley graced with a half smile as he recognised its distinctive shape piercing the skyline. </p><p>He checked his watch, coming up on 4am. He glanced over at Nyrise next to him with a reassuring smile. Aziraphale took Marchocias’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. He carefully unslung the bag from his shoulder, while Crowley and Nyrise stepped rather further away to wait near a bench. Aziraphale and Marchocias took a seat on another to wait, Aziraphale fidgeting nervously with the bag now on his lap. </p><p>At ten minutes past four precisely, Crowley’s superior night vision picked up two shapes walking up the hill in the dark. One tall and dressed in pale greys, the other rather shorter and in darker clothing. He waited until they were about 30 feet away before he called out. </p><p>“I’d stop there if I were you, I don’t think you want to get too close right now.” He glanced at the other two from the corner of his eye to see Marchocias and Aziraphale standing again, tense, side by side about 15 feet to his right. </p><p>
  
</p><p>“Crowley?” Beelzebub’s voice cut sharply through the clear night air. “I should have known you were involved in this somehow. What do you want? A bounty for handing them over?”</p><p>Crowley gave a short, humourless bark of laughter. He could see Gabriel was equally confused, eyes flicking back and forth between the four of them. </p><p>“Nyrise, Aziraphale? Whatever is going on here? Nyrise, we only wanted to find out what you had to say for yourself, to find out why that demon was interfering with things, why don’t you come over here and we can work this all out, yes?”</p><p>Nyrise raised her head defiantly and met Gabriel’s gaze, silent and immovable. Aziraphale spoke up instead. </p><p>“I don’t think either of your erstwhile employees will be going anywhere with you. You see, you may have noticed after Armageddon, that a peculiar phenomenon occurs when an angel and a demon fall in love, that effectively cuts their obligation to either of you.” He reached into his bag and withdrew a simple tartan thermos. “Gabriel? Can you perceive the energy signature of what I hold in my hands right now?”</p><p>
  
</p><p>Gabriel was thoroughly confused, but could tell what the angel held nonetheless. </p><p>“That’s holy water, blessed by an angel. Is that how you got that demon to do as you ask?” He demanded, nodding his head at Marchocias where she stood next to Aziraphale. Aziraphale only smiled faintly in reply. </p><p>Crowley made his move next, lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers to summon a palmful of hellfire which lit up the night sky and rapidly began to spout higher, the flames reaching six feet into the air as beside him, Nyrise looked on impassively and unflinching. Gabriel and Beelzebub did not need to be told the nature of the fire in the demon’s hand as he stood there grinning, sharp teeth gleaming in the dark. </p><p>“D’you know what this place is called?” Crowley enquired, toying with the flame idly, twisting it into weird shapes with his fingers as he spoke. “It wasn’t always Parliament Hill. Once upon a time it was Traitor’s Hill, I thought you might appreciate the irony there, given what you called me at the airfield, Beez.”</p><p>“And Hampstead Heath,” Aziraphale continued where Crowley left off, “has long been a place where those who seek forbidden love have been wont to come to seek it out, especially those that society has historically declared should not be permitted to love one another on pain of arrest or destruction. Thank goodness that many humans are beginning to live in more enlightened times nowadays. Still a long way to go of course, but they have made great progress. More so than Heaven has, certainly.”</p><p>“Your lot are all about ‘love’, apparently,” snarled Crowley, sarcastically. “And yet you have so little understanding of it, what it really means, or how powerful it really is…” He nodded at Aziraphale, who smiled back. </p><p>Aziraphale unscrewed the cap of the thermos and lifted his hand high, then proceeded to pour the holy water over Marchocias. </p><p>The demon tipped her head back and allowed it to flow over her body with a sigh, as both Gabriel and Beelzebub looked on in horror, only for their gaze to be wrenched aside by Crowley wrapping Nyrise in a pillar of hellfire, where she continued to stand in immobile defiance, glaring at the representatives of heaven and hell as the flames licked higher around her. </p><p>“Ring any bells?” Taunted Crowley. He snapped his fingers and the hellfire disappeared. Aziraphale snapped and the holy water evaporated to nothingness, leaving Nyrise and Marchocias unharmed. </p><p>Aziraphale snapped the thermos and bag away into nothing and took a step forward, head high and radiating all the confidence and power of the Principality he was. </p><p>“I do wonder what it will take for you both to remember that there are still things in this universe that remain utterly ineffable - unknowable to even yourselves, part of perhaps an even higher plan by the Almighty, not meant to be known by even the highest archangels or the lowest prince of hell. Do you believe yet that some beings might have Her blessing to be who we wish to be, to have a taste of the free will She gave to her favourite creations, the humans? Perhaps her great test is to see all of us approach humanity in our words and deeds, to become less of an extreme and seek out Her ineffable love in mediation. Maybe Her ultimate goal is all of us to become human incarnate, to finally defeat discord in the universe?”</p><p>Gabriel’s hands curled into fists and back again in agitation, presumably wondering what to do, until Crowley coughed politely and sparked up a small gout of hellfire in his hand again and played with it, pointedly. His entire expression said <em> ‘go ahead, make my day.’ </em> Gabriel took the hint and tried to relax his frame into a less threatening posture. </p><p>
  
</p><p>“So, do we have an understanding here?” Aziraphale enquired politely yet with a firm undertone that spoke volumes about the steel hidden underneath his soft exterior. His grey eyes glittered dangerously in the slowly brightening pre-dawn light. “Any angel and demon who wish to befriend one another should be left alone to do so, <em> for the greater good?” </em> He narrowed his eyes pointedly at Gabriel with the last point.</p><p>“I think, perhaps, point taken,” Gabriel conceded. He glanced sideways to Beelzebub, whose eyes were suspicious, but they nodded slowly, still certain that they had been tricked somehow but not sure exactly how. Caution got the better of them and they huffed, turned on their heel, and stomped off. Gabriel flashed a brief, fake smile and followed suit, occasionally glancing behind him at Crowley, who continued to play idly with his handful of hellfire with a smirk until they had gone. He finally flicked his wrist to extinguish it and let out a sigh of relief. The pink glow of the sun was just beginning to lighten the sky from the East. He collapsed back onto a park bench and stretched out. Aziraphale hurried over to join him, while Nyrise and Marchocias embraced. </p><p>“Should we…?” Nyrise began, Aziraphale shook his head hurriedly. </p><p>“Wait until we get home, safer that way, just in case.”</p><p>Crowley leaned over to Aziraphale and kissed him. “Are you ok, Angel?”</p><p>“Yes, I was just so worried about wielding that open thermos so close to you, dear.”</p><p>“Relax, Aziraphale, we had plenty of distance. Anyway, let’s get these two home and get some rest, yeah?”</p><hr/><p>After they got back to Crowley’s flat, Nyrise and Marchocias held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes as they swapped corporations back again, then Nyrise swatted at her demon with a mock scolding tone. “You wretched liar! You said you weren’t still hurting, that body was aching the entire time I stood there!”</p><p>Marchocias looked guilty. “Sorry, Bokkie, I could handle it, I forgot you’d have to experience it too.” </p><p>
  
</p><p>“I could handle it as well you ridiculous wolf, I just don’t like to think of you having to, now go and lie down for a rest, I’ll join you in a moment.” Marchocias scowled at her then stuck her tongue out before retreating for a lie-down. Nyrise turned to Crowley and enveloped him in a tight hug. “Thank you so much for all your help, for saving her, and for getting us some freedom. I don’t think we could ever repay you for what you’ve done.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Where d’you think you’ll both go next then?”</p><p>“Nairobi, got unfinished business there. I want to find out how those unsavoury characters knew I was an angel and how to trap me. I know Marchocias despatched them, but someone else must know what was going on, and I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again, to me or any other angel.” She turned to hug Aziraphale, who returned her embrace warmly. </p><p>“Please do remember to keep the secret safe as well though, my dear.”</p><p>“Of course, Aziraphale, thank you for entrusting us with it to save our lives, rest assured your secret is safe with us. Thank you for everything.”  She released him with a smile, dropped a little curtsey, and went to get some rest with her demon. Crowley stretched and yawned. </p><p>“Welp, sun’s up, but I’m still going to get my head down for a bit as well, haven’t been able to sleep easy for a while, you coming, Angel?” Aziraphale took his hand, a soft look in his eyes. </p><p>“I do believe I will, dear. There’s still a lot of cuddling I want to catch up on.”</p><p>“Not reading then?”</p><p>“No, definitely cuddling, Crowley. Books can wait until later I think. Lead the way, my love.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When I wanted to come up with another character for this fic, I started out looking for a suitably demonic name, if a "real world" mythological demon had what I was already looking for, like Duke Vual did in "constraint" then I'll go with that. </p><p>I knew I wanted a demon who had an animal form ideally with wings, and almost went with a leopard one, I was always going to have their gender as female anyway for more strong feminine representation, but it just so happened that there was a demon in mythology who, although presenting male in human form, takes the animal form of "a she-wolf" - a winged one at that, with a serpent's tail. I thought she was perfect as she was, but decided to make her human form female as well, to offset Crowley and Aziraphale's masculine presnting in this story for balance. I also wanted her in a lesbian relationship with an angel, again as a counterbalance to our ineffable's queer relationship. </p><p>This is what I found: "A great marquis of hell who commands 30 legions, Marchocias appears as a she-wolf with griffin wings and a serpent’s tail, and spit flames. In human form, Marchocias appears as a grand soldier. They obey exorcists and the domination of angels."</p>
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